


Birthday Wishes

by PadreNuestr0



Category: RWBY
Genre: M/M, Qrow turns into a bird, mentions Ace Ops, mentions Nora Valkyrie, mentions team JNR, mentions team RWBY
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:27:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22185583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PadreNuestr0/pseuds/PadreNuestr0
Summary: Qrow turns into a bird when things get too real for him.
Relationships: Qrow Branwen & Clover Ebi, Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi
Comments: 15
Kudos: 214





	Birthday Wishes

**Author's Note:**

> crackhead hours

#  Birthday Wishes

_ This is dumb, like, really fucking dumb. Sure, I was  _ invited _ , but that’s a whole lot different from anyone actually wanting me here. Honestly, with everyone trying to have a bit of fun amongst the onslaught of Grimm and politics, it’d probably be better if I just turned around and took my misfortune to some local bar where it couldn’t hurt anyone I cared about. Well, maybe just back to my room…  _ As he turned to go, Qrow ran directly into an overexcited Marrow, sending both of them tumbling to the ground.  
  


“Shit, are you okay?” Qrow groaned, rubbing his now sore elbow.  
  


“Of course I am, you’re no match for a Wyvern, even though your head might be unusually hard.” Qrow sighed as Marrow rubbed his nose with a frown.  _ This is why I never should have even  _ tried _ to come to something like this. With me around, the whole evening would turn into another one of those disasters I’m famous for. _ “So, are you coming in?” Marrow’s innocent question drew Qrow’s attention just in time to see him knock easily on the door.  
  


“Uh, no, I was just gonna…” distracted by the persistent  _ whish _ ing of Marrow’s tail, Qrow almost missed the ominously approaching footsteps.  
  


“Gonna what?” Hesitating to think of a suitable excuse was his downfall as the door opened before Qrow could even begin spouting some incoherent nonsense about tomorrow’s mission. The words died on his lips as the door clicked open to reveal Clover Ebi’s radiantly welcoming smile and warm green eyes. Qrow quickly dropped his eyes to the side and rubbed the back of his neck roughly. “Hey, look who I ran into, literally!” Marrow’s exclamation was followed by an accusatory look and gently rubbing of the red spot on his nose. Clover’s gaze quickly moved from where it’d locked onto Qrow’s smoothed back hair and crooked, sheepish smile. Not that Qrow noticed his attention. Of course not; he never did. At a second glance, Qrow realized that Clover had changed out of his usual uniform and into a soft looking red T-shirt, his four-leaf-clover badge gleaming familiarly from its place on his chest. Distracted by Marrow’s smalltalk, Clover missed Qrow’s appraising look and subsequent blush. Of course; he always did.  
  


“Well, are you two going to come in?”  
  


Qrow’s mind blanked at the host’s confident smile, “uhh…”  
  


“Of course we do, why else would we be standing out here with presents? Wait, do you have a present, Qrow?” Marrow inspected his empty hands suspiciously, “You can put your name on mine if you want,” he added in a conspiratorial whisper that fooled absolutely no one if Clover’s widening grin was any indication.  
  


“No, no, I… have one,” reluctantly, Qrow removed a narrow, hastily wrapped box from his front pocket, “But I’ll just leave it with you and be on my way, things to do, and all that”  
  


Qrow’s weak excuse set Clover’s mind racing, trying to find some way to get him to stay; “Nonsense, you made it this far, come inside and have some cake.” Clover blatantly ignored Qrow’s offered gift, tilting his head towards the warmth and noise from inside. Oblivious to Qrow’s internal argument, Marrow easily stepped through the doorway and made a beeline for the cake.  
  


“ _ OH no you don’t! If anyone else touches my cake, we’ll see exactly how fast you’ll be able to throw it up! _ ” Nora’s threat was followed by Jaune’s scared laughter and the clattering of a plate being hastily set down.  
  


“Well, maybe not the cake, but come inside anyways?” Clover’s hopeful tone drowned out Qrow’s internal ranting long enough for him to cross the threshold into the crowded quarters.  
  


“I didn’t know there’d be so many people here.”  
  


“Yeah, Ruby said that we were friends, even if my team thought otherwise; she insisted on throwing this whole thing. It’s nice having so many people to celebrate with, even though it may be a bit crowded.” Carefully scanning the room for impending accidents, Qrow caught sight of team JN_R (may she rest in pieces, sorrynotsorry). Oscar’s not-so-subtle attempts to escape Nora’s violent quest for vengeance sent Marrow tumbling into the middle of team RWBY. Ruby herself was jostled and ended up spilling most of her drink down Winter’s arm, staining the pristine sleeve an offensive purple colour. In the ensuing rush of Ruby’s apologies and fluttering napkins, Yang snuck up behind Weiss to warn her that the spill on Winter was a sign that eventually “ _ all Schnee children will feel the wrath of the grape juice! _ ”. When Weiss turned to reprimand Yang’s “utterly ridiculous” behaviour, her braid smacked the plate out of Elm’s hands, shattering it on the floor. With conversation around the Ace Ops quieting as they went about cleaning up the ceramic shards and spilt food, Qrow could hear Blake quietly explaining to an astonished Yang that Whitley had been drenched in  _ wine _ ,  not grape juice.  
  


_ I should have just stuck to the plan: give him the gift at the door and leave.  _ But Qrow had never been a match for Clover’s charms. He coughed uncomfortably, “So, happy birthday, but - like I said before - things to do…”  
  


“That wasn’t your fault,” Clover’s stern assertion was met with one of Qrow’s melodramatic eye rolls, “It  _ wasn’t _ . Are you really going to argue with me on my  _ birthday _ ?”  
  


“Of course.”  
  


Encouraged by Qrow’s cocky smirk, Clover grabbed his wrist, “Here, come on.”  
  


“What? Where are we going?”  
  


“Let’s just step away for a bit.”  
  


As Qrow reluctantly let himself get dragged along, he couldn’t help but remember all the reasons that coming tonight was a bad idea.  _ Everyone keeps telling me how much they want me around, and that a little bit of misfortune isn’t a problem, but none of them have spent enough time around me to know just how difficult it can get, I made sure of that. Anyone that’s ever even tried has ended up injured or dead - either way, they learned their lesson, and so did Qrow. He couldn’t do that to anyone else, especially not Clover. _ Qrow’s sigh seemed to speed up the pair’s pace until Clover pulled them both out onto his balcony.  
  


“There, who can you hurt out here?”  
  


Qrow ignored Clover’s smug smile to look suspiciously over the railing at the long drop below, “You… or myself, although I wouldn’t be too terribly torn up about the latter, I’m too used to it by now.”  
  


Clover felt that his contradictions and reassurances would fall of deaf ears, so he summoned a confident smile instead, “Well then, I guess we’ll just have to stay close to each other and let our semblances cancel themselves out.” Was he being subtle? Absolutely not, Qrow didn’t seem to notice, of course, but anyone else would have. Clover felt not even one ounce of shame.  
  


Leaning forward with a sigh, Qrow braced his forearms on the railing. The other man followed suit, standing maybe a little bit closer than necessary, but Qrow didn’t make any moves to distance himself from the gentle pressure of Clover’s shoulder against his own.  
  


“What else did you have going on tonight?” Qrow saw right through the false innocence in the question; Clover knew full well that he had nothing else going on. Not like he was going to admit that.  
  


“Oh, you know,” Qrow’s eyes slid away from Clover, “Stuff for the… mission… thing.. tomorrow, that is.”  
  


“Ah, of course. I’d offer to help, but I’m a bit busy right now.”  
  


“Yeah, fun party.”  
  


“I wouldn’t know, I snuck away to hang out on the balcony with a cute guy,” Clover wasn’t sure—with the dim lighting and all—but he was fairly certain he caught a blush spreading across Qrow’s cheeks as he turned away. He smiled softly.  
  


Chuckling awkwardly, Qrow didn’t know what to do with his feet. His nervous shuffling left them pressed closer together, and Clover could smell the musky spice that always enveloped him. Qrow stilled, waiting for Clover to shift away and regain some modicum of personal space, readying himself for the familiar sting of rejection.  _ Clover’s a nice guy, but he knows about my semblance, and “nice” only goes so far. _ The longer he waited for the inevitability, the more comfortable he became with the warmth, and the harder he knew it would be to let this comfort go. But Clover didn’t move. He relaxed into the contact, to Qrow’s incredulity. And he kept talking like he  _ didn’t _ just short circuit Qrow’s brain.  _ Logically speaking, I know it’s just because Clover doesn’t actually understand how truly destructive my semblance can be, but it’s nice—it’s really fucking nice—to feel him all sturdy and reassuring pressed against my side like this _ .  
  


The moment broke when Qrow’s elbow slipped on the ice that coated the railing and he fell violently forward. Thankfully, his aura lessened the blow to his abdomen, but his pride still came away bruised. Releasing a curse, Qrow reached down to remove the box that had been jostled by the collision. Having forgotten his whole reason for being there until that very moment, Qrow self-consciously offered the now slightly dented box to Clover.  
  


“I… got this for you,” Qrow’s unoccupied hand rushed quickly through his hair, “So, happy birthday.” Clearing his throat, Qrow quickly returned his voice to it’s normal cocky drawl, “See you around,” and with a lazy, two-fingered salute, he turned to leave.  
  


Qrow barely made it two steps before Clover interrupted his incredibly dignified exit, “Don’t you want me to open it?”  _ I should just calmly brush him off—like I would anyone else—but it always feels just a little bit harder than normal to push  _ him _ away. Maybe it’s this whole sobriety shit, but this whole night I’ve been acting like some flustered schoolboy. And damn it all, but maybe I’m okay with that, if it means I get to spend the night talking with Clover like this _ . With a glance over his shoulder, Qrow promised himself that whatever was between them would never go anywhere past talking.  
  


“Of course, I just figured you’d want to get back to your party already.”  
  


Clover’s incredulously raised eyebrow—as if he had just said something entirely off-base—sparked something warm within Qrow. “But I’m having so much fun out here. Besides, I want to know what you got me,” with a wink and a sincere grin, Clover began neatly opening his present. Qrow leaned back against the wall to watch and crossed his arms for even the slightest bit of protection against the other man’s enticing charm.   
  


“A broken mirror?”  
  


“Yeah, well, I figured you had more than enough  _ good _ luck charms,” he was aiming for effortless confidence, but Qrow wasn’t quite sure he pulled it off. Neither was Clover, as he was too distracted by the blatant onceover he received that chased away any chill from the Atlesian winter.  
  


Their eyes locked and Clover stepped forward, making the already small balcony feel even smaller, “Good, I was worried it might’ve been some joke about my looks.”  
  


Clover’s low, intimate tone flustered Qrow and had him responding too quickly, without the common sense of any sort of filter, “Of course not, there’s nothing wrong with your looks. They’re almost  _ too _ perfect.” While his last sentence left Qrow wide eyed and blushing, hoping that the wall would open up and swallow him, or that the entire balcony would just break off and end their conversation permanently, Clover’s grin only grew, infused with the promise of the sweet words and soft touches that had been absent during all of Qrow’s previous relationships. In the past, anyone he was with was just there for the sex, or—more rarely—the company of another hopelessly lonely soul. Clover, on the other hand, looked at Qrow like he  _ mattered _ , like he would matter beyond sex and sad conversations. Like he would matter tomorrow morning, and next year, and when his misfortune toppled shelves and broke glass. Clover’s eyes promised that he knew what he was getting himself into, and that he still wanted to get into it. The scariest part was that Qrow wanted it too. He wanted to give in, to ignore that long list of reasons why he should never, ever, try to be with someone beyond a one night stand—the list he’d written out so that he’d never forget it, the list that was burning a hole in his vest pocket, begging him to step away from this situation, to let this beautiful, amazing man have a  _ happy _ life, not whatever he’d have with Qrow.  
  


_ Fuck. I need to leave. I cannot allow this to continue, not if I actually care about Clover Ebi in any way, and, oh gods, I most certainly do _ . He was so close to giving in, to letting everything that was about to happen just… happen. Clover placed his hand on the wall next to Qrow’s head, but waited as he watched him work through his internal conflict. Staring into Qrow’s eyes, Clover could tell that he was scared and offered what he knew was a reassuring smile. Qrow searched the taller man’s face, almost frantically, and opened his mouth as if to say something. Clover leaned imperceptibly closer, expectant. That minute movement was the push Qrow needed. Within the next second, Clover was overwhelmed by a violent flurry of ebony feathers as he watched the one person he’d actually wanted to spend the night with flee into the darkness.  
  


Resting his head gently on the wall with a sigh, Clover breathed in Qrow’s fading scent and let the chill air wash over him. He needed a few minutes before he returned to his rowdy party guests.  
  


As Qrow flew… anywhere else, he worried about how badly he’d just messed up that beautiful moment, about how he would meet Clover’s eyes tomorrow during their mission. He carefully constructed a few more walls in preparation of anger and hurtful words.    
  


Despite his worrying, Clover treated him no differently in the morning—that is to say, he shamelessly flirted until all of Qrow’s fears about his potentially negative reaction to last night were quieted. And something soft bloomed in Qrow’s broken chest when he caught sight of the gleaming mirror shard that Clover had intricately wrapped in string and fixed securely around his wrist. When he caught Qrow staring at it, Clover sent one of his cocky winks not-so-subtly across the crowded conference room, and for anyone who missed  _ that _ , Qrow’s blush was more than enough context.


End file.
